The Proof in the Pineapple
by we-are-not-soldiers
Summary: Bones peeps and Psych peeps working together on 'The Proof in the Pudding' case? Whaaat! This is my third time uploading this...sorry!
1. The Guys with the Silver Coffin

Author's Note:

Hey, guys...this is, like, my third time uploading this b/c fanfiction's playing up on my laptop.

Anyway, the storyline is that the Psych peeps came from Santa Barbara to help out B/B because they broke up and Bones is pregnant...which sucks. Shawn and Gus become good friends with them, nicknaming Booth 'SB' (something my friend came up with, I guess I should give her some credit lol). And now they're working on 'The Proof in the Pudding' case, except I'm calling it 'The Proof in the Pineapple for various reasons... (also, Shawn proposed to Juliet, except not in real life. -.- I'll post that story some other time.

And Lassie, Henry, and Chief Vick aren't in this one. Sorry! And Gus is an intern...kind of. That's why he's referred to as 'Dr. Guster' sometimes. Which sounds weird, I know.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or Psych. It would make my day if I did, tho!

* * *

"Bones, it's as clear as a photograph," said Booth, who stood over Temperance and her desk with a fresh box of pizza on top of it. Shawn and Gus were settled in her new armchairs, especially made for pregnant women, indulging in their food. "You can't see anything in the cheese?"

"Seeing patterns where they aren't is a symptom of schizophrenia," stated Temperance.

"You're a paranoid schizophrenic!" chimed Shawn and Gus.

"Shut up, you two. You're talkin' about Hodgins right there. But, anyway, Bones, you cannot see that?"

"No."

"Can I guess?" asked Shawn, who stood up and yelled, "Hey, guys, guess who I am!" He kicked out his leg and shuffled across the floor. When he was done, they all stared at him. "Michael Jackson...King of Pop..." He sat back in his chair, disappointed.

"That was _not_ Michael Jackson," snorted Gus.

"How did you know that?" asked Booth.

"You were about to kick out your leg, SB. I am the world's best fake psychic."

"Okay, let's leave Bones in peace."

"See ya, Dr. B!" called Shawn as he leaped out of his seat, and the three boys conga-lined out of the office.

Temperance chuckled and turned back towards her computer. A few minutes later, Cam walked into the office with a pregnancy test in her hand.

"Hello, Dr. Brennan, can I ask you a quick and stupid question?"

"Um...sure..."

"Did you take a pregnancy test recently?"

"No...the last time was when I was still dating Booth. But that is a stupid question, since you are fully aware that I am pregnant anyway."

"...I'm sure you're curious why I asked you that."

"Well, you're holding an at-home pregnancy test and it's obviously positive, so you are worried about losing your most important employee when the time comes for me to give birth."

"Uh, thanks for being modest, but it's because Michelle was here a few hours ago, and the only people who use the restroom down that hall are you, me, and Angela."

"Angela is still dating Hodgins..."

"You're right, Dr. Brennan. You're really cheering me up right now." Cam hurried out of the room and to Angela's office.

"Hey, Ange!" said Cam. "Are you by any chance pregnant?"

Angela looked up from her paperwork. "I beg your pardon?""I-I found this pregnancy test in the restroom-" Cam cut herself off and turned around. O'Hara had been putting her things her purse and had frozen. "What?"

Cam turned back to Angela. "I'm sorry, I thought we were alone-"

"No, it's okay. But why are you asking me?"

"Well, this isn't mine, and Dr. Brennan hasn't used one since her relationship with Booth, so I thought it was you." Angela just kept staring at her.

"I'm not crazy," said Cam, looking from Angela to O'Hara. "I'm not crazy...really, I'm not..." She hurried out of the room.

O'Hara looked at Angela. "So, what was that all about?"

"What makes Cam crazy?" asked Angela simply.

"Um...Hodgins' experiments?"

"And..."

" ...Michelle," O'Hara realized, and Angela nodded.

~***~

Cam sighed as she walked towards the exit of the Jeffersonian. "Cam, they're not letting me leave!" said Sweets. Two men stood before the automatic doors with expressionless faces.

"What's going on?" Suddenly, a tall, black man walked into the lab with two women rolling a covered, coffin-shaped encasement followed right behind him.

"Everyone who is presently in this facility is not allowed to leave," said the man.

"I'm in charge of this facility!" snapped Cam.

"Not tonight, Dr. Saroyan."

"Who are you guys?" asked Sweets.

"I am Mr. White, in charge of the General Services Administration." He showed them his badge before returning it to his pocket and walking into the lab.

"You mean the people we order pencils and paper cups from?" asked Cam, but Mr. White's reply was cut off by Temperance.

"What's going on?" she asked, with Shawn and Gus not far behind. Booth had already left.

"Oh, hello Dr. Brennan, Dr. Guster, and you must be the Psychic Detective." Mr. White shook hands with the three of them before retreating to the coffin-like encasement as his assistant agents put a silver box on the doors to prevent entry or exit. "The government requires you to figure out how this person died as a matter of national security. Until you do, you will all stay here." Mr. White gave Temperance a silver briefcase.

"Wait, does that include me?" asked Sweets.

"But he's only a psychologist!" spoke up Gus.

"No one in and no one out by the order of the Federal Government. Now, you have until dawn tomorrow to fulfill this task."

"But-" Shawn began, but Mr. White cut him off.

"No buts, Mr. Spencer," he said, and he walked away.

"This is gonna be bad," sighed Shawn, and they all looked down at the encasement.

~***~

"Booth?" Sweets whispered. He was on the phone to him, hiding in Temperance's office.

"What do you want, Sweets? I'm in the middle of dinner. And why are you whispering?"

"A bunch of government guys came in and sealed the place up. They brought in a body, and they won't let anyone come in or leave!"

"Slow down. What government guys?"

"They claim that they are from the General Services Administration," answered Sweets.

"Whoa...who else is there?"

"Uh, Dr's. Brennan, Saroyan, Guster, Hodgins, and then Shawn, Angela, and me. But why would they want me? I'm only a psychologist!"

"It's okay, Sweets, I'll look into it."

"But what do I do?...Hello? Booth!" But the signal was gone. Sweets sighed and put his phone back in his pocket.

~***~

Once the encasement was on the platform, Mr. White pulled the black cloak from it, revealing a silver coffin. He opened the coffin, where clean bones rested in peace. "No testing and no samples," he said strictly to Cam, Temperance, and Gus. "These remains will leave in exactly the same condition as when they arrived. My men will observe and no one comes in or out. Clear?"

"As a crystal," said Gus nervously. This guy was the scariest person he had ever met.

"So, now that you've kidnapped me, my lab, and my co-workers, perhaps you could tell me why," said Cam.

"You have not been kidnapped, Dr. Saroyan," Mr. White cleared. "You've been ordered by your government to do your patriotic duty in your workspace."

"Your testing and samples restriction could severely limit our insights," said Temperance.

"We only require cause of death, Dr. Brennan," said Mr. White just before placing his hand on the briefcase. "Now, there are samples in here that you may examine, but they, too, must not be harmed." Suddenly, his phone beeped. He flipped it open, and it read:

**We have detained Agent Booth.**

Mr. White looked up from his phone and said, "Identification of the victim is priority zero. Now, if you'll excuse me." He walked past Gus, and a shiver was sent down his spine.

"Uh, is there any chance that you two can right away guess cause of death?" asked Cam quietly. Temperance looked at her, puzzled. "Guess?"

"I need to get home to kill Michelle." They all sighed and got to work.

~***~

"So, any of you guys like hockey?" Booth asked to the three men who surrounded him in the parking garage. They all stayed silent. "Y'know, I'm all for the Flyers. Raise the roof!" Booth's hands soon retreated to his pockets. "I guess not...knitting, maybe? Soccer's big...David Beckham. Texting...typing...football...baseball...c'mon, you guys like something."

Thankfully for the other men, Mr. White came onto the scene, but Booth started chatting again. "Well, if it ain't the big guy himself! How's it going?"

Mr. White said nothing as one of the men handed him Booth's badge. "FBI Special Agent Seeley J. Booth, correct?"

Booth snorted. "My face is on that thing and you know who I am. But I'm gonna cut to the chase: why did you lock up my people?"

"That information is classified, Agent Booth," said Mr. White, handing Booth his badge. "And they're not really _your_ people-"

"I want to go inside," said Booth simply.

"That's not going to happen."

"You timed this, didn't you? So then I wouldn't be in there to stop this." There was a smug look on Booth's face.

"Do you need help getting home, Agent Booth?" asked Mr. White, towering over him. But Booth wasn't afraid of this man, and his expression didn't change either. He began walking towards the elevator, and once the men were out of earshot, Booth whipped out his phone and called Sweets. He answered almost immediately.

"Booth?"

"Sorry about that. Can you talk? Is anyone else there?"

"Juliet, Hodgins and Angela."

"Okay, put me on speaker." Sweets pressed the speakerphone button and placed the phone on the table.

"Hey, Booth," said Angie, relieved. "This is really weird..."

"How do we know that these guys aren't terrorists?" asked Hodgins.

"They're not terrorists. They're standard federal issue agents."

"Why would the GSA bring in a body?" asked Sweets.

"Standard federal issue cover-up," suggested O'Hara.

"This is the first time I've been as paranoid as Hodgins," said Angela, and Hodgins rolled his eyes.

Booth snorted. "And Bones calls me a schizophrenic. Look, don't worry. If anyone's gonna lock you guys up, it's gonna be me."

"Why're these guys letting us use cell phones?" asked Hodgins.

"Because whatever these guys are doing, they think they're untouchable," said Booth, and he hung up.


	2. JFK or George Bush?

~***~

Half an hour later, Booth and his starving boss, Assistant Director Andrew Hacker, sat at a table in the Royal Diner.

"So, this guy is Mr. White from the GSA," said Hacker. "Do you recognize him?"

"We've met before...not very pretty meetings."

"God, I hate the big guys."

"Yeah, well I'm going in," said Booth, standing up, but Hacker held him back.

"No, no, no! Don't!"

"Why not?"

"It's unprofessional in terms of inner agency cooperation," said Hacker in a lightning-fast tone.

"Mumble that again?"

"I wasn't being serious, just letting you know." Hacker turned on his charming smile, and Booth groaned. This guy was the only thing he hated about his job.

"Right...so you're gonna help me?"

"What, are you serious? No!"

"Why?" Booth whined.

"Because not stopping you isn't the same as helping you, Booth. But I will help you when you're some non-existent CIA prisoner."

"Gee, thanks for the support," said Booth sarcastically.

"No problem. But, I'll snoop around anyway, see what I can find."

"Thanks, boss." Booth headed towards the door.

"Hey, Booth, do you mind telling me what's so important about getting in there?"

"...They're my people," said Booth in a tone that would touch your heart, but then it quickly turned into one of those moments when you hear the DJ scratch and the whole situation changes.

"Oh, for the love of God! Now you're gonna prove that you're a better person than me, too?" Booth hurried out of the restaurant, annoyed. Hacker sighed. "I'm never gonna get anywhere with Temperance if he makes me look bad in comparison."

~***~

Temperance, Cam, and Gus returned to the forensic platform to see Hodgins, who looked like he was gonna explode.

"What's the matter, Hodgins?" asked Gus.

"I-Is there a nick in the bottom right rib, just above the vertebrae?"

Gus looked to Temperance. "Dr. B, wasn't there-"

"Yes, there was."

"Most likely caused by a transiting bullet," added Cam.

Hodgins dug his face in his hands, and placed them on the computer keyboard nearby, and a screen popped up of the victim's scalp. "I found a fiber of pink wool in the victim's hair...and the bad back...transiting bullet..." They all looked at him, confused. Hodgins shot a glance at one of the men before adding in an extremely quiet tone, "1963..."

"Wait, pink wool?" whispered Gus, and his jaw slightly dropped.

"She never left his side..." said Cam, and Temperance looked at them.

"What?"

"Th-This is President John F. Kennedy," Hodgins managed to say, and they all looked down at the remains.

~***~

They told Shawn and Angela, and Angela looked up more information while Shawn took some time to inspect the bones.

"Do you have any 'psychic stuff' coming to mind yet?" asked Hodgins impatiently. "Or are we gonna stand here like statues for the rest of the night?"

"Hodgins, please. Don't be a Carlton Lassiter. I'm still determining if this is JFK or George Bush." Shawn walked around to the other side of the remains, where the huge hole in the skull finally caught his eye. "Is that where he got shot?" asked Shawn, and Temperance nodded. Shawn's eyes flicked over to the other side of the skull, where a tiny square was embedded, and the light engravings nearby, indicating...

"Is that were he got hit by a grid or something?" asked Shawn, pointing to the shapes. The three of them bent down to Shawn's eye level, none of them noticing Booth waving to them from the locked automatic doors.

"Well, when he died, the funeral home did all sorts of cosmetic surgery to his head," said Gus. "Maybe some utensil used in the surgery, or..."

"Gus, George had cosmetic surgery everywhere on his body!" snapped Shawn, and Gus rolled his eyes.

"You guys, I can't confront Michelle about the pregnancy thing," blurted out Cam, and the men looked at her. She lowered her voice and continued, "What am I supposed to do?"

But, their responses were cut off by the smashing of glass, and Shawn randomly yelled, "IT WAS MURDER!!" Everyone looked at him, including Booth, who had just destroyed the glass with his gun. "Did I just say that out loud?" whispered Shawn, and Gus slapped the back of his head and hissed, "You moron!"

"Booth!" called Temperance joyously.

"Hey, Bones! Who knew that being locked up in your own workspace would be so heart-pounding, huh?" Out of the corner of her eye, Temperance could see the two men darting towards him. "Booth, duck!"

~***~

Booth lay on the sofa on the second level of the lab with the ice pack against the back of his sore head. Temperance walked over to him and sat on the edge of the sofa. "Are you okay?"

"Sure, I'm fine. I was more worried about you being locked up here."

"No, I'm 100% fine." There was a pause before she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Booth sat up. "Sorry? For what?"

"For me not helping you."

"I know you think that was hilarious when I was almost killed, Bones. You're smiling!"

"Well, I guess it was funny," admitted Temperance.

"Bones, there's nothing to be sorry about. You warned me about those 800-pound muscle packed freaks, and I just wasn t paying attention." After a moment, Booth asked, "So, the body...do you know who it is?"

"Well, Cam, Hodgins and Gus think it's President John F. Kennedy."

Booth's eyes widened. "JFK?"

Temperance nodded. "Also, Cam found a pregnancy test in the restroom, so now we're all thinking that Michelle is pregnant."

"Okay, usually that would be big news to me, but right now it's not...JFK?"

Temperance sighed and nodded.

"Wait, Bones, was Hodgins the first one to say that it's JFK?"

"Yes."

"Then it's not JFK."

"But Hodgins is an excellent scientist. And Shawn's considering that it might be George B-" Temperance cut herself off at the sight of Mr. White.

Booth turned around. "Oh, hey, Mr. W!"

"How did you get past the guards?"

Booth could tell he was furious. "Sniper training...they taught me how to tip-toe like a man." Temperance smirked.

"You are now restricted to the building, and if you go any farther, Agent Booth, I am afraid I will have to separate you and Dr. Brennan's partnership."

"No!" Booth and Temperance snapped in unison, and everyone from the forensic platform looked at them.

~***~

O'Hara walked into Cam's office, where Cam sat at her desk, her hand having the urge to pick up the phone and dial Michelle's number.

"Dr. Saroyan?" Cam looked at her. "Oh, hello, Detective O'Hara. Did you get anything-"

"It's not Michelle's pregnancy test," sighed O'Hara. "It's mine." Cam put her face in her hands, relieved. "I'm so sorry...I didn't want anyone to know, and Angela was in the room-"

"O-Oh, thank God...well, y'know-"

"No, it's okay," said O'Hara with a smile.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm...in shock."

"Does Shawn know?"

"No...not yet. I know Shawn should've been the first, but-"

"-I was freaking out about Michelle," Cam finished for her. "Thank you, Detective-"

"You can call me O'Hara...or Juliet, whichever you prefer." Cam could tell that O'Hara's eyes were clouded. "Thank you for understanding, Cam." She turned and walked away.

~***~

"Any luck finding out about what's going on?" Booth asked Hacker, whom he was talking on the phone to.

"Not really...all of it's locked down pretty tight," sighed Hacker. "Have you got anything?"

"Just dumb Secret Service stuff."

"Secret Service...right, do yourself a favor, don't mention any Regan jokes or the Bush shoe incident. They get really mad."

"Okay...hey, do you know any contacts inside the White House?"

"Of course I do! I'm insulted that you even asked that question!" Hacker hung up and mimicked, "'Do you know any contacts inside the White House?' Who does he think I am, a hobo?"

Booth put his phone back in his pocket and saw Mr. White glaring at him from the other side of the lab. Booth gave him a small wave before walking away.

~***~

Booth hurried into the bone room, where Temperance was examining the skull. "Hey, Bones, if Angela's facial reconstruction was right and it was JFK "

"If you're about to ask me if it's true or not, I'm not sure. Facial reconstructions aren't photographs."

"Right, that's good..." Booth paced back and forth, and Temperance looked up.

"Booth, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, Bones..." Suddenly, Shawn came in with a brown rifle.

"SB, it's your lucky day!"

"Where the hell did you get that?"

"Hodgins told me and Gus about a secret passageway in the janitor's closet and we almost got beat up. But we're good now." Booth and Temperance looked at each other. "Hodgins told me that it's the exact replica of the gun that shot JFK. So, even though we almost got beat up, we need some jibber-jabber to give us permission."

"I know who's good at jibber-jabber!" said Temperance excitedly.

"Who?"

"Me!"

"Sweet! Let's go!" They all hurried into the lab, where a puzzled Mr. White stood with a large pineapple.

"So, Mr. Spencer needs permission for Agent Booth to shoot this pineapple," he said. Temperance nodded.

"Well, you took Booth's firearm away."

"Look, if you want our best work, this is what we do," said Cam.

"And this experiment is essential to cause of death, correct?"

Temperance then began her scientific jibber-jabber, and Cam, Booth, and Shawn pretended to understand her by nodding.

"So, you just want to shoot the pineapple?" Mr. White guessed.

"You understand me perfectly," said Temperance with a small smile.

Mr. White sighed. "How many bullets?"

"Just one," said Cam. "That's how many it took to shoot the President, right?"

Mr. White nodded slightly and loaded the rifle, giving it to Shawn to hold for the moment, and loaded Booth's gun, too. Booth put his gun in his pocket, and Mr. White hissed in his ear, "We'll be watching."

Booth smirked. "Bring your popcorn."

~***~

Hodgins and Sweets placed the pineapples onto the electric go-kart. Everyone else covered their ears as Booth got the rifle ready.

"Go!" Shawn yelled, and the go-kart scrambled out of the shelter. Booth took his first shot, shooting 'the driver', and the next shot hit 'JFK', exactly where the real bullet had been.

Booth grinned at his success, and everyone hid their smiles from Mr. White.

Half an hour later, everyone, including Mr. White, was in the bone room.

"Your job in front of the law enforcement is over," he said to Booth, who stared at the man with angry eyes.  
"That is enough!" Temperance snapped. "You're not taking my partner away from me!"

"I'm afraid I have to, Dr. Brennan. This man has meddled with many things during this case, and has recently called a few people who have given him confidential information."

"You're testing us," said Sweets. "You're testing us to see what we can handle with a big case like this one."

"I have no response to that, Dr. Sweets. Agent Booth, please come with me."

"No!" Temperance cried desperately.

"Bones, it's okay," Booth whispered, and he walked solemnly after Mr. White.

~***~


	3. Epicness and the Pineapple Pudding

~***~

Temperance walked to her office, but she was stopped by Shawn. "SB's in there, if you want to talk to him." He gave her a small smile before walking past her. She walked into the room, where Booth sat on the sofa. She could tell he was extremely angry.

"Shawn noticed another entry wound on the skull," he grumbled.

"Yes, I know."

"You know what that proves to me?"

"That there were two shooters?"

"Well...yeah, but the remains weren't JFK."

Temperance sat next to him. "Why is it so important that the remains aren't President Kennedy's?" she asked.

"...So, if it was him, there were two gunmen?"

"Logically, yes."

"If there were two, the government lied. They covered it up."

"Throughout history, governments have lied publicly to its own citizens, Booth." There was a pause before she asked, "Does this have to do with your ancestor?"

"Bones-"

"John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated President Lincoln!"

"Bones, you promised you would never mention that again," growled Booth, who headed for the door.

"Booth, I never promised! But I will-" She cut herself off when Booth stormed out of the office.

~***~

Cam walked into the lab, where O'Hara was reading a few files.

"O'Hara!" she called.

She looked up. "Oh, hey, Cam." She handed O'Hara a paper. "What's this?"

"When I thought the pregnancy was about Michele, I tested it. It was a false positive," said Cam with a smile.

"O-Oh. Well, thank you for this."

Cam nodded and walked away, and O'Hara felt like she was about to cry.

~***~

While Booth was being handcuffed, Temperance hurried over to Shawn and Gus. "I need your help freeing Booth."

"What?" Gus stared at her in horror.

"Aww, sweet! How's it gonna work?" asked Shawn excitedly.

"Okay, Shawn, you need to steal the key and successfully get into my office, and Gus, you need to help Booth get over here."

"As long as Gus puts the roller-coaster part of _Like Whoa_ on to make this epic," said Shawn. Temperance turned to Gus, puzzled.

"Don't worry, Dr. B. We got this." Gus's worries melted away as he hurried up and onto the platform, where Shawn had left his Aly and AJ CD on accident. He put the CD in Hodgins' radio and placed his finger on the play button, ready. Shawn walked over to the man, who had been distracted by Gus's movement.

"Excuse me," said Shawn.

"Go away before I handcuff you, too," growled the man.

"Yeah, um, I don't know if the big man told you, but I'm a psychic. And the spirits are screaming something to my brain, something that they want me to tell you." Booth sighed quietly.

"Oh, really? What do they want you to tell me?" asked the man in a sarcastic tone.

"Solo si usted usa su tocado de plumas!" Shawn yelled.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Only if you wear your feathered headdress," said Shawn randomly, snatching the key from him. Gus pressed the play button as Shawn bounded away with the man not far behind. Gus hurried down the steps and helped Booth into Temperance's office. Shawn leaped into the room and Temperance quickly closed and locked the door. They all stuck their tongues out at the man as Shawn handed the key to Gus, who unlocked the handcuffs.

"Wow, that was awesome!" said Shawn as he, Gus and Temperance did a triple fist bump.

Booth grinned. "Thanks, guys."

"Hey, it was Dr. B's idea," said Shawn. "But now, you know what to do, SB!"

Booth opened the door, slamming it into the man and handcuffing him to a nearby pole. He then looked around for Mr. White, who hurried into the lab.

"What in the name of the Lord is going on?" he demanded, hurrying up to the platform and shutting the music off. Temperance and Booth hurried into the room, where Temperance walked up to him with ferocious eyes. "What is going on?" Mr. White repeated, but the only response he got was a slap in the face from Temperance. He tumbled over the edge and fell on the floor, and Booth handcuffed him, too.

The other man walked over to Booth and said slyly, "Try." Booth kicked him in the private parts and he sunk to the floor. Booth snorted. "Wimp." Suddenly, Hacker charged into the lab with a S.W.A.T. team close behind. Everyone came out of their offices, bewildered.

"Whoa, Agent Booth! You beat 'em all up!" laughed Sweets, and everyone applauded. Hacker sighed.

"If I had been here ten seconds earlier, I would've been the hero, right?" Booth shrugged as Mr. White and his men were taken away by the S.W.A.T. team.

~***~

An hour later, Booth walked into the bone room, where Temperance was placing two bones in a separate tub filled with something.

"Bones, is that pudding?"

"Yes. Pineapple pudding to be exact." Booth immediately knew whose idea it was to make it pineapple flavor. "I adjusted the specific gravity with the thickening agent-"

"With pudding?" She didn't respond. "Whoa, Bones, something happened."

"Well, one of the bones sank and the other one floated. Now, the heavy bone is healthy, but the other one has osteoarthritides."

"And?"

"President Kennedy _never had_ osteoarthritides!"

"Come here," said Booth, immediately hugging her.

"Wow, you _really_ didn't want this to be JFK!" she laughed.

Booth let go of her and said, "I know you kept looking because of me. Thanks, Bones."

"I just wanted you to be happy, Booth." She smiled and was about to leave until Hacker stood in her path.

"Oh, hello, Temperance. You look great, really-"

"Hello, Andrew. If you'll excuse me, I need to-"

"Did Booth tell you about me and my S.W.A.T. team charging in to save you?"

"No, but it would've been nice if that was true," she said before walking past him.

Booth smiled and hurried after her. "See you, boss!" he called over his shoulder.

~***~

After lunch at the Royal Diner, Cam and Temperance walked outside before everyone else. "You're aware that JFK had scarlet fever when he was a youngster, right?" said Cam.

"Yes, Hodgins informed me of that."

"You know it triggers osteoarthritides, right?"

"Yes, but it's extremely rare...about 1 in 100 cases."

Cam smiled. "You're a good person, Dr. Brennan. I will never forget what you did for your partner." And with that, she walked away, leaving a smile on Temperance's face, too. Shawn, Gus, O'Hara, Booth, and Sweets walked out next, Shawn's arm around his fiance's shoulder.

"And you know what, Jules? It doesn't matter that you're not pregnant, 'cause you'll always be the chocolate chips to my cookies."

O'Hara laughed and kissed him. "Gee, thanks, Shawn."

"See, Gus? Skills."

"Mmm-hmm. Sure. Well, have a good weekend, guys!" Gus called as the three of them headed towards the Echo.

Sweets yawned. "I feel like I could curl up and die."

"Yeah, well get to bed before you collapse in the middle of the road, buddy," said Booth, patting Sweets on the back.

"Okay. Bye!" Sweets hurried across the street to his car.

Booth held out his hand to Temperance. "Shall we?"

Temperance chuckled. "We shall." She took his hand and they walked along the sidewalk.

"You must think I'm crazy that I was praying it wasn't JFK, huh?"

"Well, I'm very impressed, Booth. You wanted the truth, even if it was going to hurt you."

Booth smiled. "I learned that from you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sometimes you've gotta go for your brain over your gut."

"I'd hope that you would use your brain over your gut anyway, since your gut can't think."

"But it can digest healthy foods that help your brain."

"Oh, yes. I forgot," laughed Temperance.

As they continued walking, they never noticed the TV in the window nearby, where, on a news broadcast, the screen read:

**Congressional Committee denied to exhume President John F. Kennedy, citing 'respect for the family'.**

**

* * *

The End. **=)


End file.
